Not able to cope with reality any longer, I confided in my mother: telling her how I lie awake at night, thinking about what I should do with my life?
Shaking her head, the elevator clearly not going all the way to the top storey, asking me if I am joking? "Do you realize" she asked me, "do you realize that I could not cope with you since forever? Look at you: a grown man, wearing me out, your own mother!"
My dad, he just sat there, smoking his pipe, lost in his own reality, thinking about either the latest Clint Eastwood movie, or the neighbour's young wife. Absent mindedly smiling at us, squeezing my arm sympathetically when I walked past.
Clearly the issue was overwhelming, and I contemplated a truce. Perhaps go for a walk in the park, passing pastor Johannisen on the way? He, at least was sort of obliged to be bothered....
The pastor sagely nodded his head, saying: "Son, you gotta learn to be a man." It was clear his favourite singer is Kenny Rogers. "I'll have you know that Jesus is quite busy these days, especially since the Americans moved out of Iraq. But I will ask Him later on if He cannot move you up the queue. Meantime, why don't you go for a walk in the park?"....
The sun had no mercy either, turning bones into glue, frying hallucinations to the fore. So when the dog looked me in the eye, saying "Son, we have to talk" I scurried away, back to the pastor, informing him that the end is nigh.
And afterwards, sadly shaking his head, he opined: "Son, you should have talked."